After Dark
by Anya2
Summary: 9th DoctorRose. As Rose begins to truely realise what a life changing opportunity the Doctor has given her, she also discovers that he is not the only alien to have a fascination with the human race...
1. Part One

**Title:** After Dark  
**Rating:** T  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to and including 'The Unquiet Dead'  
**Set: **Between 'The Unquiet Dead' and 'The Aliens of London'  
**Parings:** Hinting at 9thDoctor/Rose growing feelings  
**Warnings:** Mildly sexual situations. Nothing your mother wouldn't want you watching.

* * *

Rose smiled softly as the sound of a loud bang intruded through the open door into her room. Then she laughed to herself as this was swiftly followed by a stream of angry words, spoken in a language she didn't understand but which sounded very odd when said in a northern accent. By the sound of it his latest attempt to fix the increasingly temperamental TARDIS hadn't been anymore of a success than previous half dozen. Apparently the 'space' part of the equation was working well enough, as he'd proved when teleporting them all over the British Isles whilst running some tests. The 'time' aspect wasn't running quite so smoothly however. At the moment he could only get forwards working but not backwards. And, as he pointed out, there was only so far you could go in one direction.

He'd be trying to fix it for just over two days now - the longest amount of time they'd stayed in one place since she'd met him. A few hours ago he'd rushed in to see her, excitedly claming that that he'd accidentally configured the thing to freeze time instead of travel through it. Which was apparently a major break through in temporal theory. He'd been rather disappointed when she'd pointed out that actually his watch had stopped.

She hadn't seen him since then, but she wasn't particularly concerned. He'd fix it eventually. He always did. And then the frustration of the last few days would be gone and he'd be grinning like an idiot at her, asking where she wanted to go next.

Besides, it felt good to have a little break. She'd managed to persuade him to drop her off in London yesterday so she could pop in and see her mum. That had been weird. As far as she was concerned Rose had been staying at a friend's house for a couple of days, her occasional phone calls home preventing her from questioning that at all. In reality it had been weeks since she'd last seen her.

Her mum kept going on about how different she seemed, not that Rose herself had noticed anything. But, she supposed, if travelling through time and space didn't change you slightly, what would?

Mum had had to go to work, despite Rose's suggestion that she take the day off and they go shopping. She would have liked to have tried a bit harder to convince her, not entirely sure when she'd get to see her again. But last thing Rose wanted to do was make her suspicious that anything was wrong. She'd never hear the end of it. So she stood at the door of their flat and waved her mum off, wondering what else she would see and have to hide from her before they met again.

It only took her a short while to come to the conclusion that sitting around watching 'This Morning' wasn't exactly the most productive thing she could be doing. Despite what Louis Armstrong would have you believe, no one had all the time in the world. It had taken her being witness to the end of the world to make her realise that. And whilst the pre-Doctor Rose would have been perfectly content to slouch around on the sofa all morning, this Rose was itching to do something. Maybe her mum was right - she had changed.

Even though she knew it was 5 billion years in the future, she couldn't help but feel that there was somehow not enough time left. That the days of cars, nightclubs, CDs and McDonalds were too few. It had given her a kind of sad appreciation for what was around her. You always looked at something a little more fondly when you no longer took it for granted.

So she had decided that she would take that walk around the shops on her own. She hoped it would help her to put things into perspective, even if it was weird to walk amongst 'normal' people, knowing things they couldn't possibly know. The idea suddenly made her feel very alone. Isolated. Like she was some kind of outcast because she had cheated and seen what was to come. It brought on a sudden longing for the Doctor to show up - at least she didn't have to lie around him.

She had briefly considered calling Mickey, thinking that she should really try to explain to him what had happened and that things were fine, but she had quickly dismissed that idea. What on earth would she say?

'You alright?'

'How you been since the bin ate you?'

'I know I disappeared with a strange bloke, but it's alright cos he's a friendly alien'.

'Sorry'.

She supposed they were finished anyway. After all, when you ran off with a strange man and disappeared into the night with him without a second thought, it's probably a good sign that the relationship with your boyfriend wasn't going anywhere. It saddened her little that she wasn't more bothered about it. They had been together nearly a year. And he was a decent bloke, something most girls would kill for.

Yes, she missed Mickey. But just not enough.

And she would have been an idiot not to take up the Doctor's offer. When she had first turned him down she had been thinking about the other people in her life and what was best for them. It was only as the blue police box had faded away that she'd realised that it wasn't what was best for her. Most people would have given their right arm for such an opportunity. She would have regretted it for the rest of her life if he hadn't come back.

She was lucky he did and now she knew she had to make the best of it. Which was something that had been playing on her mind in the last couple of days of inactivity.

As Rose wandered around the shops - browsing in windows, looking at clothes she couldn't afford - she pondered the matter a little more. Whilst she wouldn't consider herself stupid by any means, she hadn't exactly been a star pupil at school. She'd left with a handful of scraped GCSEs and an absolute certainty that she was going to marry Jimmy Stones.

Okay, maybe she was an idiot sometimes.

And now, here she was, a time traveller, dashing around the universe with an alien in a blue police box that didn't always do as it was told. She could barely begin to imagine what she could possibly see. Think of all the places she could visit. The future was obviously an unknown to her, but the past? In the hands of someone who knew what they were looking for, someone a bit more qualified, the opportunities were endless. Think of all the mysteries and questions they could answer. What killed the dinosaurs, that sort of thing?

But it wasn't some history boffin he'd chosen as a companion. It was her, Rose Tyler. And some part of her felt it was her duty to find out the answers to some of this stuff. People didn't get this opportunity everyday. What if years from now someone asked her what she did with the gift and she couldn't think of anything? Even if she never told anyone, even if it was a little secret she just passed down to her kids and grandkids, someone would know which was better than it just being lost.

So, here she was now, a day later, sitting on a king size bed in one of the seemingly endless rooms of the TARDIS, surrounded by books. The lady in Waterstones had been a little annoyed with her vague ideas on what she wanted, but in the end she had come up with enough books on 'ancient mysteries, unanswered historical questions and stuff like that' to keep Rose going for a good long while.

The first book she had picked up was one on Jack the Ripper but she decided that wandering through the streets of London looking for a serial killer probably wasn't a wise next step. She'd nearly been killed twice already and wasn't about to test her luck any further. The second book was about the discovery of a load of human skulls made of quartz crystal. Interesting, but a quick flick through showed it to be too complicated to start with.

The third one gave her pause for thought. It had a picture on the front of what she figured was an Egyptian statue. It looked just like the ones she'd seen in those Sunday afternoon sword-and-sands epics her mum was so fond of. It was of a very graceful, noble looking woman, and the title simply said 'Nefertiti'. The cover was obviously doing its job well because she immediately turned over and read the blurb, intrigued…

_'For over a decade Nefertiti, wife of the heretic king Akhenaten, was the most influential woman in the Bronze Age world; a beautiful queen blessed by the sun-god, adored by her family and worshipped by her people. Her image and her name were celebrated throughout Egypt and her future seemed golden. Suddenly Nefertiti disappeared from the royal family, vanishing so completely that it was as if she had never been. No record survives to detail her death, no monument serves to mourn her passing and to this day her end remains an enigma.'_

Well it was certainly the kind of thing she was looking for she conceded as she opened the pages and began reading.

She had no idea how long had passed and only looked up when the Doctor entered the room looking mightily pleased with himself and more than a little smug about it.

"I fixed it", he said with a grin.

"Really," Rose said, feigning surprise, "Because it certainly sounded like you were losing earlier."

He shook his head, "She's a stubborn old thing, but I always get her going in the end."

He said it with such a dewy-eyed fondness that Rose laughed slightly.

"What you been doing then?" he asked, propping himself on the bed next to her, "What's that?"

"Just some old school stuff", she lied, not entirely comfortable with him knowing how inadequate she had made herself feel the day before. And how silly it was that she somehow felt like she was representing the human race and didn't want to let them down by being some stupid little blonde girl.

"It's better than I remember," she said, telling the truth this time, "I mean, Nefertiti, she was pretty cool. Ancient girl power and all that. I wonder what happened to her. I mean some people think she was murdered cos she was too powerful, but her husband was crazy about her and I don't think he would have let it happen."

She was a little shocked and pretty pleased at how much information she had managed to retain. If only they'd covered this stuff at school…

"She could've died of plague of course," she continued, recalling one of the other theories she'd read about, "That did do in a couple of her daughters about the same time that she disappeared and-"

"Wrong and wrong," the Doctor interrupted.

Rose sat up from her slouching position, suddenly intrigued.

"You know what happened to her?" she immediately assumed.

"Oh yeah," he said in a rather blasé manner, "Easy one that. No mystery there at all."

There was a long expectant pause.

"Well!" Rose eventually had to prompt, infuriated.

"Oh," the Doctor said, suddenly realising what she was waiting for, "She was taken by aliens."

Rose laughed, "Oh, give over!"

"Seriously! They liked the Egyptian culture so much they decided to do a little redecorating of their own planet and wanted a Queen to go with the palace they built."

Rose was still looking at him sceptically.

"Well," the Doctor said, standing up and holding out a hand to help her join him, "It seems we've found a place to take a test drive to."


	2. Part Two

**AN: Thanks to those of you who reviewed the first part. Your comments and enthusiasm are much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this just as much.**

As well as that paper the Doctor kept in his wallet being psychic, Rose guessed that the wardrobe in the room first left, second right, third on the left, straight under the stairs, passed the bins and through fifth door on the left must be too. Or at least it was connected to the TARDIS somehow because it always knew where and when they were going to land, and promptly filled itself with exactly what she needed for the current time period and situation.

It was a huge, dark wooden piece of furniture with old fashioned ornate carvings, which somehow managed to look intimidating and yet homely at the same time. Maybe it was because it was how she imagined the one from 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe' should look. In fact, she realised as she stared at it a moment longer, it was exactly how she imagined it should look, right down to the very last detail she had had in her mind's eye when she read the book as a kid. If someone had ever asked her to do a drawing, she would have drawn exactly what was standing in front of her now.

Did it always look like this? Or had it changed itself for her because that's what she thought a seemingly magic wardrobe should look like? Maybe it was part of the whole 'TARDIS getting inside her head thing' the Doctor had mentioned.

She found that thought a little creepy so she decided not to muse on it further. Instead she got on with what the Doctor had sent her here to do while he waited back in the control room. Opening the wardrobe she took out its contents and laid them on the nearby bed to admire them and figure out what they were.

The dress was not exactly something she'd wear out clubbing, but she had to admit that it was gorgeous nonetheless. The TARDIS definitely had good taste. It was a wrap around, strapless and sleeveless affair that looked like it was held up by a sash around the waist and a chunky necklace – depicting some kind of winged bug - which clipped onto the front. The material was light and airy, in a beautiful golden cream colour that was peppered with a regular charcoal tinged pattern. To finish it was trimmed with a strip of thin, dark coloured and expensive looking stones interlaced with beaded gold. To go with it were a pair of large patterned gold bangles, two coiled gold serpents that were big enough to fit around her upper arms, and a pair of delicate looking sandals with silky material for straps. There was also a heavy wig of very long, straight, jet black hair. It had a metal band around the top that was made of four bronze coloured circles, inlayed with dark red polished stones and joined together by little star like configurations along a number of wires. Clearly it was designed to keep the wig firmly in place.

Personally, she wasn't too sure about the wig although the rest looked pretty fantastic. This was surely one the perks of travelling with a Time Lord.

Grinning with glee, she picked it all up and hurried to the bathroom to get changed.

* * *

"Well?" Rose said with barely suppressed delight, wanting to show off her new clothes as she stepped into the control room of the TARDIS.

It had taken her a good half hour to get ready but, in her opinion, it had been worth it. It was like getting to play with the world's best dressing up box, and she was almost as excited as a kid. And it was certainly more comfortable than the Victorian stuff she'd been wearing last time.

Realising that no one had answered her, she paused and frowned momentarily before she saw the Doctor appear from behind one of the consoles. He got to his feet, not even looking at her as he brushed his jacket down and put the sonic screwdriver back in his pocket. Instead his attention fixated on the console directly in front of him.

"It seems to be working," he said, sounding more like he was talking to himself than her as he checked the display, "Looks like we're in the right place and the right time. Well, right-ish. It's not exactly what I put in but-"

He immediately ground to a halt when he glanced up and caught sight of her. His jaw literally dropped. Her slightly annoyed pout, caused by his ignoring her, rapidly switched to a huge smile that spread across her face. She spun around as well as the confines of the tightly wrapped dress would allow, giving him the full 360 view.

"I'm not too sure about the wig," she said with a slight grimace as she finished her pirouette and carefully walked down the stairs to join him, "I don't think I'm meant to be a brunette. Took me ages to do the eyeliner as well. And it didn't help with this thing rocking all over the place. I won't exactly be running anywhere in this either, so I'd appreciate you not getting us in any life or death situations."

She reached him and he looked her up and down, still mildly slack jawed.

"Well, how do I look?" she said, grinning again at his reaction. Mickey had never looked at her like that.

The Doctor gradually seemed to recover, and he started to grinned too.

"Terrific," he said with a encouraging, almost proud nod.

Then he frowned slightly as he studied her appearance more closely.

"Can I just…?" he asked, not waiting for her answer before reaching out and readjusting the sash around her waist, so it was laying straight down the front, instead of at her hip.

"Now terrific and historical accurate too," he find, his grin getting slightly goofier, "Let's get you outside before your dress goes out of fashion."

She followed him as he pressed a couple of buttons on the console before heading towards the door.

"I take it you aren't bothering to change," she said in a mildly scolding manner.

He pulled his jacket open to show he had swapped his black t-shirt for a cream one.

She shook her head in disbelief, "I don't know how you get away with it. No wonder people keep thinking you're some kind of labourer. You look like you just stepped out of a pub."

"Trust me," he said, with an assured shake of his head, "You don't want me to wear what the men here do,"

"Why not?" Rose asked him, immediately intrigued.

"They wear loincloths," he explained, looking a little uncomfortable, "Short ones. And no underwear."

Rose's face froze.

"Oh. You best stay like that then."

"Good idea."

* * *

The sun was beating down strongly, hot and prickling on her pale skin. Rose had been on holiday to Spain with her mum a number of times but that was nothing compared to the dry heat here. She now understood why the dress was so thin and light. Anything else would have been excruciatingly uncomfortable and exhausting to wear. As it was the wig was like a little furnace on her head and Rose found herself walking through shady spots whenever she spotted them to give herself some momentary relief. She certainly gained an understanding of why the rich women here could quite happily lay around doing nothing all day.

"Where d'you say we're going again?" she asked, tugging on his arm to make him slow down a little. The dress wasn't exactly the easiest thing to move in and she was struggling to keep pace with his long legs.

Getting her hint, he shortened his stride, falling into step beside her.

"Well," he said, with a slightly disappointed look, "I was hoping you could meet the lady herself, but I didn't land us precisely when I expected to."

"How far out?"

"A few years, give or take," he replied a little evasively.

"Give or take?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Just a hundred years or so."

"Or so?"

"Three hundred and twenty seven years, alright?" he admitted, a little huffily.

Rose couldn't help but laugh despite his slightly offended look.

"Well at least it's bloody working," he countered.

"Where we going then?" she asked once more, dropping the subject because she didn't want to bruise his ego. He was male after all, even if he was an alien.

"Nefertiti's tomb and palace," he said, brightening immediately again with another one of those quick mood changes she'd gradually gotten used to, "It's pretty fantastic actually. Great architecture. Good food. Shame they knock it all down in two hundred years time."

Rose looked around, slightly perplexed, "Why? I thought you said they loved Ancient Egypt."

Not to mention the amount of work they had obviously put into this place. It was such a perfect recreation of the world she'd seen in the book's picture that when she had stepped out of the TARDIS, she had found it hard to believe they hadn't accidentally landed on Earth. She'd even questioned the Doctor, asking him if he was sure that that wasn't what had happened. He'd been most put out by that, insisting that he never got things _that_ wrong.

"Oh, they did. Absolutely adored it. Best thing before sliced bread," he replied with a nod.

By the still clouded look on her face it was clear that this hadn't really helped her understanding of the situation, so he decided that a bit of background information was in order.

"The people of this planet, Gallo, were and are one great races of the universe," he said trying not to sound too much like he was lecturing her, "They're really bright and top notch builders. Unfortunately their creative ideas are all, without exception, crap. Even worse than the worst human design ideas. Like the Smart car."

He said that with such venom she wondered what kind of bad experience he'd had, but didn't get a chance to ask him before he continued.

"Their brains just haven't developed that way. They're terrific at half inching ideas from other places though and they're not exactly gonna get done for copyright law."

"Why'd they chose Earth though?" Rose wondered out loud, "Surely there's other planets out there. What is it about our stuff they like so much?"

The Doctor shrugged in an offhand manner, "Your guess is as good as mine. They're pretty fickle though. They kept coming back time after time and finding stuff they liked better than what they already had. After the Egyptian phase they went onto the Romans, then the Greeks, the Tudors, Indian, Chinese…"

"What's it look like now?" Rose asked curiously, "I mean, in my time."

The Doctor's frown deepened to that of total incomprehension, "Canada."

Rose wasn't going to even question that.

"So how come these aliens look so…. not alien?"

Everyone they'd seen so far looked as human as she was. She'd been taking a sneaky look around for horns and tails but hadn't spotted anything yet.

"Shape shifters," the Doctor said, as though it was the most natural answer in the world.

"So they don't really look like this?"

"Nope."

"Well, what do they look like then?"

The Doctor shrugged with his trademark enthusiastic grin, "Dunno."

"Font of knowledge you are," Rose said with mild sarcasm.

They continued walking in silence for a few paces as Rose mused over a thought that had been at the back of her mind on and off since she'd met him.

"Is that what you are?" she asked quietly, not entirely sure if she wanted to know the answer, "A shape shifter? Are you really all blue and slimy with tentacles?"

She said it in a joking manner, but part of her stomach was flipping over in anticipation of his answer. What if he said 'yes'? Would that change her opinion of him? How she felt when she was with him? How her hand seemed to fit perfectly in his?

'Please say 'no',' she thought subconsciously.

He paused, looking at her steadily for a moment and Rose felt uncomfortably like he had guessed what she was thinking.

"No," he said, unnaturally soft, with a small smile, "What you see is what you get."

Rose smiled too, unashamedly relieved.

"You lot should feel honoured, you know," he said, getting back on topic, "Out of all the hundreds of forms of life they'd come across in the galaxy, they liked your one the best."

"Well," Rose said, feeling a little proud that the knowledge she'd gained came so easily to mind, "They do say Nefertiti was the most beautiful woman that ever lived, so they chose a good model to base themselves on."

"S'pose so," the Doctor replied rather noncommittally.

There was another small pause.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Well, you must've met a lot of people," Rose explained, slightly nervous and feeling a bit stupid about it, "Is she the most beautiful person you've ever seen?"

The Doctor shrugged, "I'm hardly an expert, Rose. You lot all look pretty similar to me."

The slightly wounded expression on Rose's face that she couldn't quite manage to hide, convinced him that that wasn't the answer she had been looking for.

"I s'pose she's up there with the best," he conceded in a slightly uncomfortable manner, "She looked very royal. You knew she was a queen just by looking at her. Although beauty isn't just in the physical of course. There was something very hard about her and there's no beauty in that. To see someone happy, caring and full of life – that's far more beautiful."

Rose got the feeling that the Doctor had said much more than he had really wanted to as he quickly changed his tone and train of thought.

"She was bald you know," he said brightly, with all the glee of a school boy playing with bugs.

Rose smiled back, finding his enthusiasm infectious, "Yeah actually, I did know that. She shaved her head so her crown fitted on."

"Wonder if her husband knew," the Doctor mused, "Would have been a shock on their wedding night…"

Rose laughed.

* * *

Despite her earlier ribbing of the Doctor about his inability to land them in the right time, she had no complaints about it as they walked back to the TARDIS. He had been right, the palace was just amazing. She'd seen plenty of pictures of Egyptian ruins, but nothing compared with the opulent magnificence of the real thing. She was still slightly awed by it now. She lived in London, surround by some amazing and towering constructions but these buildings, even though they were thousands of years older, held a splendour that their modern counterparts couldn't touch.

She had found it rather sobering to look upon Nefertiti's tomb, slap bang in the centre of the palace's great hall. It reminded her of why she had wanted to come here in the first place.

There it was. The answer to one of life's great questions and she, Rose Tyler, shop assistant, had found it.

With just a little help from her time travelling friend of course. It somehow managed to decrease the sense of insignificance that had been plaguing her since she had witnessed the end of the world.

As they moved from the main street, down an alley and into a small deserted plaza, Rose paused, leaning against a wall and gratefully pulled the wig off. As good as it looked with the costume it was driving her nuts. Itchy and hot, she shook her own blonde hair out in relief.

"Ere, wait up a mo," she called out after him.

The Doctor turned back to see her and frowned.

"You should put that back on, you know," he said, not betraying any nerves he may have about the situation.

"It's too hot," Rose complained, "You wanna try it."

"No thanks, I'd look daft."

"Can't we just sneak around the back alleys or something?" she pleaded, "I'm gonna bake to death before we get back otherwise."

The Doctor looked at her steadily, arms crossed, "Exactly how many blonde girls to you see walking around here?"

Rose sighed, knowing he was right. They didn't want to stick out anymore than necessary.

"Thought you promised we wouldn't get into any life or death situations," she said, a little irritably, "If we do, you're bloody carrying me cos I can't run."

"We won't have any trouble if you put the wig back on, Goldilocks."

She sighed again in resignation, shaking her hair about once more before stuffing it back into the wig.

"Better?" she asked bitterly.

"Much," he replied, "And once we get back to the TARDIS, I'll take you home and we'll get ice cream. Deal?"

"You're paying?"

"S'pose so."

She smiled, "Okay then, deal."

The Doctor motioned for her to walk in front of him down the next alleyway. As she headed off, he paused momentarily, suddenly feeling something in the air. An odd tingling down the back of his neck. He turned back to the small plaza but couldn't see anyone or anything.

"What you doing?" Rose called back to him, having stopped a few paces along when she realised he wasn't following.

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. She was right. It was too hot out here. It was even beginning to effect him now. The sooner they got back to the TARDIS, the better.

Moments later they stepped out of the alley and into the busy marketplace that separated them from the deserted street where they had left the TARDIS. Rose found the place fascinating and would have liked to have stayed longer, but she was already starting to feel a little queasy from wearing the wig again. The sooner she got back and got changed the better. And that ice cream was beginning to sound more and more inviting by the step.

They had only managed a few short paces before a man holding a handful of flowers accosted them.

"Buy a flower my friend?", he asked rapidly, clearly well practised and confident, "Lovely flowers. Would make the most humble home seem as if to be a beautiful palace."

The Doctor screwed up his nose, trying to steer himself and Rose away, "No thanks, mate."

The seller was swift on his feet though and side stepped into their path again, suddenly holding just one flower out for their inspection. It wasn't one that Rose recognised, although she wasn't exactly an expert on flowers. The only one's she'd ever got were the daisies Mickey had once picked for her. It was pretty though – tightly packed pure white petals that were streaked with red. The stalk had thorns on it. Maybe it was some kind of rose.

She laughed quietly to herself. Another rose hanging out with aliens, eh?

"Come on, my friend," the man continued in a persuasive tone, "See this bloom? The most perfect I have ever seen. Surely such a beautiful flower would only be fit as a gift for a beautiful lady."

He gestured grandly towards Rose.

"Oh, give over," she said, looking around awkwardly.

The Doctor paused for a moment, the salesman's over enthusiastic smile fixed in place as if he believed it would be instrumental in making the decision go his way.

Suddenly the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and handed a couple of rough coins over to the salesman, taking the flower in return.

"Now clear off," he said firmly, "That's your lot."

The salesman disappeared quickly before the Doctor had a chance to change his mind.

"There you go," he said, cheerfully handing Rose the flower, "Enjoy."

He strode off, and it took a perplexed Rose a few moments to shuffle after him.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked, genuinely curious. He never struck her as a particular sentimental person.

"I know what these people are like," he said dismissively, "They won't leave you alone unless you buy something. Just wanted to make sure we got back without being followed, that's all."

"Yeah, right," Rose muttered to herself with a small smile.

"What?"

"You're right," she quickly lied.

"Besides," he whinged slightly, "I'd rather you hold it. Bloody thing's sharp."

He held his hand up to show where one of the thorns had grazed his finger, leaving a small scratch.

"Well as grateful as I am, you'd better still have enough money left for ice cream."

The Doctor rolled his eyes dramatically, "Honestly, you human females…Us males try to do something nice…"

"Just prioritising, that's all."

They continued to walk in a companionable silence for the last part of their walk back to the TARDIS. Rose stifled a yawn as she waited for the Doctor to open the door. God, she was tired. She guessed it was the heat doing it. It hadn't been a long walk and she certainly wasn't that out of shape.

As soon as she stepped in she dragged the wig off her head and shook her disgustingly damp hair out.

"I think I'm going to go and take a shower," she said, screwing her nose up in disgust. She barely managed to stifle another yawn.

"And have we got time for me to have a quick sleep?" she asked, feeling a little weak for doing so, "I'm starting to feel really knackered."

"Rose, the one thing we've always got is time," the Doctor said reassuringly, "You go and have a snooze, I can do a bit more tinkering in here."

"Tinkering?" she asked with a smile, "Is that another one of your special Time Lord skills?"

"Passed my advanced tinkering with flying colours actually," he said grinning in return, "Now go on. There's plenty more for me to show you yet and I won't have you yawning all through it."

She nodded in gratitude and headed for the door to the rest of the seemingly endless interior. Pausing briefly in the doorway, she turned back to look at him.

"Thanks," she said quietly, with an intensive sincerity.

"For what?"

"For choosing me," she said without thinking.

"And for my flower," she added, not wanting to get too serious, "It is pretty."

"My pleasure," he replied with a nod, "On both accounts."

He disappeared under the console again and Rose smiled and headed to her room. Her intention had been to have a shower then get under the duvet of the incredibly inviting looking bed, but as soon as she got there it seemed her body had other ideas. Her limbs felt heavy with tiredness, she was yawning like a good'un and her eyes were staying open on a wing and a prayer. As gross as she felt, she decided it was probably going to be best to get a short nap in first. It would not be good for her to fall asleep in shower. Either she'd drown or the Doctor would have to come in and rescue her, and she would never be able to look him in the eye again.

She dropped the wig unceremoniously on the floor and placed the flower on the dresser beside the bed. She knew she should take her shoes off, but it suddenly felt like such an impossible chore when all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

Moments after her head hit the pillow she was sleeping soundly.

Back in the control room the Doctor shook his head as he realised he'd been staring at the same circuitry junction for the best part of a minute without taking in anything he was seeing. It seemed the heat was still having an effect on him too because he was starting to feel very lethargic.

As he almost involuntarily closed his eyes he had a brief realisation that the thorn graze on his hand was tingling in an odd fashion that was starting to become painful. His increasingly groggy mind wondered why he hadn't noticed it before as he lost the battle and fell into a deep sleep.

In Rose's room she stirred slightly as the flower, laying inches from her face, suddenly opened up. A crimson dust wafted lazily out of it, brushing over her lips and into her mouth. Rose moaned slightly, as if in the throes of a bad dream before she relaxed again to a state of perfect tranquillity.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

The Doctor slowly became aware of the fact that he was awake as light began to permeate through his closed eyelids, even though he had no recollection of the intention to go to sleep in the first place.

He groaned softly to himself, forcing his eyes open with great effort and then wincing at the light which poured mercilessly in. It took him a moment of adjustment to realise that the view he was looking at was in fact the TARDIS's ceiling. He'd fallen asleep on the floor at the base of the control console, the sonic screwdriver he'd been tinkering with still tucked in his loose grip. A confused frown spread across his features. He hadn't done this since he'd drunk that yangalan wine on Yanga 6. Even then it was more a case of passing out than falling asleep. Besides, he had only slept three days ago, no where near long enough ago to warrant a Time Lord collapsing from exhaustion.

Reaching up with heavy arms, he used the edge of the console to pull himself unsteadily to feet. Something wasn't right with him, that much was obvious. His limbs felt like they were made of lead, his body felt like it had been kicked. He could quite cheerfully fall back to the floor and sleep again.

What was wrong with him? Was he ill? Was it heat exhaustion caused from wearing a leather jacket on a desert planet? Was this what happened when you ate too many chips?

Mildly concerned, he staggered his way slowly towards the rear door, every step becoming gradually easier as his blood seemed to getting pumping again, although he couldn't entirely shake off the feeling that any movement was far too much like hard work. He needed to go and check on Rose though and that thought kept him going. Maybe it had been something on the planet that had affected him, and her human body was much more vulnerable than his Gallifreyan one. He needed to check she was all right.

The Doctor made his way laboriously to her room, still feeling like each step was an effort but at least able to do it without collapsing in an exhausted heap. He knocked on the door sharply when he arrived. She'd kill him if he just barged in and she was getting changed or something. Or at least she wouldn't let him forget it in a hurry and there was a lot of leverage to be had from the guilt of accidentally seeing someone naked. For a start she could force him go back and meet her mum and that drip Mickey again.

He knocked a second time, more loudly in case she was asleep and hadn't heard the first. There was no response.

"Rose?" he called, knocking yet again, banging his fist against the door this time.

Still no answer.

He turned the handle and pushed the door open slightly, ready to cover his eyes if she was in a state not fit for visitors. Not that he assumed she was. He'd been making enough noise to wake the dead.

His blood ran a little colder at that. What'd he go and put that thought in his mind for?

Peering inside with trepidation, he was almost pleased to see the room was empty and still.

Frowning though, he stepped inside, the tiredness in his own body all but forgotten. The sheets of her bed were crumpled showing they'd been slept in so she must have been here. Hadn't she said something about having a shower? A horrible thought crossed his mind.

"Oh crap," he muttered, suddenly panicked as he raced to the adjacent bathroom as fast as his still recovering body would allow. What if she'd fallen asleep there? She could have been there for hours by now.

He pushed the door open with a bang, deciding that her life was more important than any sense of embarrassment she might feel.

"Rose?" he called out again, alarm laced in his voice.

Fortunately the bathroom was empty. Unfortunately, that meant she was still missing.

As he walked back to the control room the possibilities ran through his head along with a sense of mild panic. This wasn't like him, he didn't worry about things like this. He weighed up the options calmly and sensibly, then acted in the most appropriate way. That was what he did. How a Time Lord was meant to behave.

But this was different because it was Rose. The little human who somehow, in his opinion, seemed to eclipse the majority of her species. Who ran along side him, hand in hand, loving the journey and not worrying about what would happen. Who he had selfishly taken away from her home and loved ones, dangling the possibilities of excitement and adventure in front of her knowing she wouldn't be able to resist. Who he was finding it increasingly difficult to imagine being without. Who he was more fond of than perhaps he had the right to be.

He pushed all those thoughts from his mind. This wasn't helping either of them. He needed to be calm and logical and figure out what had happened. If he could identify any alien species in the universe from a couple of random facts about them, finding one human girl on one planet shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Now he certain they had shut the TARDIS door behind them, which meant it was impossible for anyone to have gotten in and taken her. Once closed up the place was virtually impregnable. That left two other options, either she was still in here somewhere - perhaps exploring, perhaps collapsed and asleep like he had been - or she had left of her own accord. It was easy to check out the first.

Back in the control room he went straight to the console and ran a scan for life signs inside the TARDIS. The only other organic material it was picking up, apart from that in its own systems, was himself and the flower he had brought her. He ran it again just in case, not believing she would have been so stupid as to go outside alone. Not to mention that she hadn't worn the wig which he had spotted dumped on her floor. He couldn't believe that after his little lecture earlier she would go out without it.

It seemed though he had given her too much credit as the scan came back with the same result once again.

He was silent for a moment as an angry frown spread across his face. Then he swore loudly in his native language, slamming his fist painful into the console as if it was its fault.

How could she be so bloody stupid?

After all they'd been through so far, after all his warnings, what on earth would possess her to go out alone? What was wrong with her? What was she trying to do – scare him to death?

He pulled a device from its docking station and rushed towards the door with furious steps. It was a tracking device that he could configure to pick up any species, and since she was the only real human here she should be pretty easy to find.

He just hoped she hadn't gone too far.

* * *

The afternoon sun was just as hot as it had been the previous day when they had walked through the busy streets to Nefertiti's palace. At least he assumed that had been the previous day. It had been getting towards sunset when they had reached the TARDIS and now the sun was high in the sky once more. What possibly could have made him fall asleep on the floor for nearly 18 hours he hadn't worked out yet. At the moment he was more concerned about finding Rose. Preferable safe and well. 

He stopped as the signal from the tracking device strengthened and settled again. He looked around to see what it was referring to. When he spotted it, The Doctor gave the machine a sharp, irritated smack, but it refused to change its mind about the result it was giving him. According to the readout, Rose was in the building dead ahead. A building that just happened to be a none too reputable looking tavern in a very unsavoury part of town. Why she would come here he didn't know.

That was assuming she had come here of her own will, of course.

He had been certifiably furious with her when he had first left the TARDIS. He had fully intended to find her and drag her back by her ears, giving her lecture about how if she did that again he'd kill her. Or strand her on the planet of six foot slugs. Surely a suitable punishment for nearly giving him a double heart attack.

But as he had searched the surrounding streets and market where he had honestly expected to find her, and not come up with a single trace, his temper had calmed and his worry had grown, along with a certainty that Rose just wasn't that thick. Nor so cruel as to do something she knew would worry him half to death.

Although, he thought a little grimly, she didn't seem to have very many qualms about leaving her boyfriend and mum behind to wonder what had happened to her when the prospect of adventure had come beckoning. Maybe someone had offered her more than what he could and she'd dumped him too.

He immediately shook that unjust and ungracious thought away. No, that wasn't Rose, she wouldn't do that. Although he knew it sounded big headed of him to think so, he truly believed that her decision to come with him wasn't just because of what he could offer her, but because she liked the idea of going on an adventure with him in particular. That she felt the same instant connection to him as he had felt for her. The one that had made him go back and ask her a second time when she had refused his first offer.

True, he hadn't known her all that long but he just understood that this wasn't something she was likely to do unless there was a very good reason or she had no choice. Besides, after her scares on the space station and in the funeral parlour, he assumed she would have figured out that she was safer when he was with her, looking after her. Having arrived in such an unsavoury place just fanned his fears that something was definitely amiss.

As far as he could see there were two possibilities for this. One, she had somehow been taken from right under his nose and he was a total idiot who wasn't fit to look after a goldfish, or two, she had found him, been unable to wake him up and had gone to see if she could find some help.

The second one didn't seem all that likely though. She was more than smart enough to realise that there was a higher likelihood of finding something useful in the TARDIS, rather than out on the relatively primitive looking streets. It also didn't seem likely that she would have wandered this far when there were much more friendly looking places closer to where they had parked.

But why would someone take her and leave him behind? It didn't make sense. Unless they wanted something from him and were using her as a bargaining chip. Seemed rather pointless though to take a hostage and not tell anyone about it. It kind of defeated the object.

He shook his head, knowing all this speculation was getting him nowhere. Whatever the circumstances he had to get her back. It was as simple as that. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her and how would he ever face her mum?

'Hi, you probably don't remember me but I took your daughter on a joyride through space and time, and now she's dead. Sorry.'

That would hardly be a fitting end for the last of the Time Lords, strangled to death by an irate mum who hadn't had her roots dyed for too long.

The sun was gradually setting behind the sandstone buildings as he carefully watched the tavern, trying to figure out his next move. Normally he'd just barge in and make things up from there, but if Rose truly was in trouble he didn't want to endanger her further by doing anything rash. He need a slightly better plan than the bull in a china shop approach.

"Excuse me, mate," he said, catching the attention of a passing merchant heading home with his packed up goods, "What is this place?"

The man glanced back at the tavern and smiled lecherously.

"Ah, a haven for all men," he said with an odd kind of fondness, "The House of Flowers, home to the most beautiful dancing girls in the whole city. In any city I would wager. I do not know how that Hasani does it, but he is certainly the luckiest of men."

The Doctor nodded apprehensively as the situation suddenly seemed to become much clearer. Not that it was looking any better for Rose. Hadn't he told her not to take that bloody wig off? She was just asking for trouble. She was lucky it was just the ancient alternative of a pole dancing club rather than something more serious.

Assuming the conversation was over the merchant went on his way.

Starring back at the entrance, the Doctor decided that despite his preference for a well thought out plan, he had very little choice. Go in there, cause a ruckus, rescue Rose before she did anything she'd regret later, go back to Earth and get ice cream. It all seemed remarkably simply when he thought about it like that.

He crossed the street and walked confidently through the door, getting his jacket caught in the beaded curtain and almost bringing it down before he managed to untangle himself. Nice smooth entrance then, didn't draw any attention to himself at all.

The place was very dark inside, the windows boarded up and the dull wood interior lit by copious amounts of candles. There was a mild smell of something he couldn't quite place but which seemed to instantly make his head spin. He shook it, trying to clear his thoughts but he couldn't completely shake away that muzzy, cotton wool feeling he disliked so much.

He immediately headed straight for the first place you always did if you wanted to find something out in one of these places – the bar. The bartender was a man apparently in his early forties in human years and who, by the look of his complexion, hadn't seen daylight in quite some time.

"I'm looking for a girl," the Doctor said shortly, without any hint of an introduction.

"Aren't we all," the man replied lazily.

"Ah, but this is a particular girl," he pointed out, "About so high, long blonde hair, brown eyes, London accent. You can't miss her. Her name's Rose."

The bartender wasn't at all shocked by the Doctor's description of this usual looking girl, but instead he smiled, pleased, "News always travels fast here, doesn't it? Hasani got her new today. A rare beauty. And as your luck would have it, you are just in time for her."

The Doctor frowned, worried about what that was implying, "In time for her what?"

The bartender's reply was cut off when a band he hadn't noticed started playing music. It was soft, languid and hypnotic, and it didn't seem to help his muzzy brain in the slightest.

Then there was a stirring to the right of him and he glanced across to where a soft curtain had parted.

And there was Rose.

She wasn't wearing very much.

Little more than a red two piece bikini really with a scrap of cloth tied around her waist that was barely long enough to qualify as a skirt, and so see through it was hardly worth wearing it at all. In fact, she was wearing more jewellery than clothes, various gold ornaments, wrapped her around her arms, neck and legs.

The Doctor swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling a little dry. The bartender placed a drink in his hand and he gratefully threw it back without hesitation.

"She is beautiful, no?" the bartender said, and the Doctor could hear him smiling even though his own attention was entirely fixed on Rose, "Hair like the golden sands, skin like fine white marble. You will enjoy her show I think."

The Doctor knew he should have been over there by now, wrapping his jacket around her shoulders and dragging her away from all the lecherous clientele who were making sure they got an eye full. But he couldn't seem to move and that wasn't just because he was transfixed by the beautiful, half naked woman. That heavy feeling had returned to his limbs once more and whilst his brain was screaming at them to co-operate they didn't seem interested in doing what they were asked. So instead he just watched, hypnotised as she began to move, swaying to the soft, mesmerising music. Her hips seeming to lead the rest of her body, the fluidity in the movements almost snake-like, although her gaze was all predator. Like a cat stalking with the most careful and assured steps.

Why was she doing this? Why was she letting them stare at her like that? The Rose he thought he knew would have smacked them one by now.

A singer joined in with the music, barely audible but somehow wafting lazily through his brain.

_Watching her  
__Strolling in the night  
__So white  
__Wondering why  
__It's only after dark_

She moved throughout the room, continuing at her slow, sultry pace. She stopped at every one of the small number of clientele, taking her time to dance for him in particular. Never touching, but never breaking eye contact.

_In her eyes  
__A distant fire light  
__Burns bright  
__Wondering why  
__It's only after dark_

Too late he realised she had reached him, last out of all the others present. He tried to force his body into some kind of action. It wasn't right. He had to push her away. Ger her out of here before some unscrupulous soul took advantage of her.

Or before he did something she'd never forgive.

'This is ridiculous', his brain was shouting at him. He wasn't some hormonally driven randy teenager who thought only of nothing else. He was a Time Lord, he was meant to be above stuff like this. Or at least more in control than most. He was meant to keep his head when all about him were loosing theirs. Yes, she was pretty. Beautiful even, but she was a human and only nineteen. She was Rose. He couldn't let anyone take advantage of her like this. Even his slack jawed starring felt like a betrayal. She trusted him to keep her safe.

But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sway of her hips as she walked and all his complaints and protests didn't seem to matter as long as she kept moving towards him.

Something wasn't right here, he knew that much, but he was apparently unable to do anything about it.

_I find myself in her room  
__Feel the fever of my doom  
__Falling falling  
__Through the floor  
__I'm knocking on the Devil's door_

Then she was there, standing barely an inch in front of him, swaying and moving in way that seemed to burn into his brain and make his blood boil. She starred straight up at him, her eyes focused but without recognition, as if she herself was under some kind of spell.

Did she even know it was him?

"Rose?" he asked softly, struggling to find his voice.

There was nothing there. No response, no hint that she'd heard him.

"Rose," he repeated softly, pleading, knowing that his own resolving was fading and afraid because he didn't know why, "Please, you have to stop this. Wake up. Don't this, Rose. I care about you, I don't want to-"

His voice caught in his throat as she slid her hands up his chest, achingly slowly, slipping them under his jacket and round the back of his neck. Her fingers trailed lazy patterns there, making him shiver.

He starred into her eyes, but it wasn't Rose starring back. There was no sparkle there, no hint of her normal energy. She was empty.

She pulled softly, guiding his face towards hers, still looking fixedly into his eyes. She barely exerted any pressure at all but he was unable to stop himself from doing exactly what she wanted.

'No,' he thought to himself, 'This isn't right. She's not herself, she'll never forgive me.'

Then why couldn't he find the strength to stop her?

_In my heart  
__A deep and dark  
__And lonely part  
__Wants her and  
__Waits for after dark_

His mind was still screaming at him to make her stop but that somehow seemed very far away now as she moved closer towards him.

The moment before his lips met hers he thought he saw the hint of a crimson vapour at her corners of mouth and heard a small thud as the man next to him passed out, but any curiosity about either of those facts was wiped out the moment her lips met his with the softest of brushes. She was so warm, so comforting and alive. So perfect and so right. And in a moment his brain had switched off and he was kissing her back, his hands resting on her barely clad hips.

Then she pulled away, still looking at him, still with no discernable expression on her face. The music seemed to come to a crescendo and then he felt his grip on her slipping away as the world faded away to a blur.

* * *

Where was he? 

And what the hell had happened to him?

The first expression that hit his face, as he became aware of being conscious again, was a frown. He really must stop waking up to find himself lying on the floor. It was undignified.

Exactly how had he gotten here again? He vaguely remembered waking up in the TARDIS, feeling about as bad as he did now and questioning his reasons for being asleep on the floor. Then he'd gone to find Rose, wondering if what had affected him and got her too and-

Rose.

Oh well wasn't he was a dead man.

A flashback quickly whipped through his mind as he remembered what had happened. He subconsciously reached up and touched his lips. He was definitely going to be in trouble once he'd rescued her.

The one thing in his defence was that she herself had initiated it, he was sure of it. He hadn't exactly tried to beat her off with a stick though.

Thinking carefully, he tried to remember further.

She'd been dancing, her hips swaying like a snake. She wasn't herself. It had been as if she was running on some kind of autopilot. The lights were on but nobody was home. Most likely a form of mind control, he surmised.

Then there had been that kiss. He could almost feel the way her lips had softly pressed against his. Warm, inviting…

He shook his head, still feeling as though everything was slightly blurred. Taking a few deep breaths seemed to help somewhat but not enough. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a water trough less than a foot away. Perfect.

He shifted over there and dunked his head in a good five times, enough so he could think of the words 'Rose' and 'lips' in the same sentence without feeling overly keen on them. Well, no more than his usual well kept in check affection for her.

Unfortunately his now clear mind left him open to another feeling, just as unwelcome. Guilt.

But no, it wasn't his fault, that he was sure. He had wanted to stop her. He'd tried but the connection between his brain and body had seemed to have gone into meltdown. He'd never take advantage of her like that and he hoped she knew that too. There was something wrong, something about that tavern…

Speaking of which, he suddenly realised that he certainly wasn't there anymore. He was sitting in some back alley in the dead of night with nothing but a few curious goats looking at him. Apparently someone had dumped him here after he'd passed out.

Nice.

Standing up and brushing himself down, a determined look came across his face. He may have been a bit of a tosser for not being able to stop her, but not nearly so much as the bloke who had taken her in the first place. This Hasani.

How dare he take Rose, his companion, and think he could just do that to her? Degrade her like that. He'd show him what happened when you took something a Time Lord cared about.

There was the anger. Much better than the guilt and far more constructive.

A plan immediately began to construct itself in his resolute mind. First thing, he had to find out where he was. Second he needed to get back to the TARDIS and work out what had got into his system to hypnotise him like that and make him pass out. Then he'd be ready for it the next time. Third, he needed to rescue Rose and fourth, he needed to give this Hasani a bloody good kicking. Or maybe he'd let Rose do it. She would most likely have a few frustrations to take out once she realised what had been going on. He just hoped he could convince her that he himself had been trying to stop her, and remind her that she had technically come on to him.

He decided the best way to get back to the TARDIS was to use the tracking device to track Rose back to the tavern, and then follow his familiar root back from there. Reaching for it, he found the expected pocket empty so he tried another. And another. And another. Until he had tried every pocket twice and could only think of one explanation.

He'd been robbed.

Bugger.


	4. Part Four

Almost two hours later he dragged himself through the door of the TARDIS; tired, still slightly damp, cold and very annoyed. He must have walked round in circles for an hour and a half in the labyrinth like back streets, before he had finally found himself somewhere he recognised. Even then it had taken him another good half hour to work his way back here. All the while every horrible possibility of what could be happening to Rose as he wasted all this time was running through his head.

To try and block that out he had started mentally working on the problem at hand. It was fairly obvious to him that she was under the influence of some kind of mind control or hypnosis, most likely administered by a drug of some sort. She clearly wasn't herself at all. Unless there was something about her former life she really wasn't telling him.

Maybe whatever it was had made him pass out too. It had been a long time since he'd kissed anyone but they had never been like that before. Not enough to knock him out anyway. As lovely as she was, he didn't think that was all Rose's doing. She must have passed it on to him when she kissed him. Infected him so to speak. He smiled at that – he really was an old romantic at heart.

But how and where had she been administered with such a substance in the first place? He'd been with her all the time they had been on this world, except when she had gone to get changed and when she had been in her room after their return. Surely nothing could have got to her in the safe confines of the TARDIS.

One thing was entirely certain though. He had to find out what had caused it otherwise he was next to useless to her. If he couldn't discover what it was and make himself immune to the effects, the best he could hope for was to go back there, stare at her again, fail to resist her again and wake up on the street. Again.

Despite his still heavy limbs, he didn't want to waste a moment more. Since he was fairly certain that nothing had been done to her whilst she was under his watchful gaze, he decided the best place to check would be the only place she had been alone – her room. Maybe she had picked up something in the marketplace that she hadn't told him about.

As he entered, a disturbing sense of déjà vu ran through him. This was exactly how it had been earlier when he had first discovered that she was missing. Talk about starting back at square one.

Glancing around he tried to take everything in with a detached, logical eye. The furniture in this room was how it had always been - the king sized bed, side table, chair and dresser. Rose's own clothes were folded neatly and placed on the chair. He immediately eliminated them as a possible source of trouble since she hadn't worn them outside the TARDIS during their time here, and he was convinced that whatever it was it had been administered on this planet. How else would this Hasani know that he could just take her without a fuss?

As he entered the room further his feet trod on something. The wig was lying discarded on the floor and he bent down to check it. Nothing seemingly untoward there. Although Rose was right, it was heavy, warm and sweaty.

The Doctor stood once more, frowning and glancing around. What else could it be then? Perhaps he was on the wrong track and there was nothing here after all. She could quite possibly have been injected with something without her knowledge, or have breathed something in. Perhaps-

His gaze stopped dead.

How could he be so stupid? And he had the cheek to call Mickey an idiot.

The flower was laying there on the side table, perfectly innocent looking, inches from where she would have been sleeping. Hopping across the bed, he flicked on the table lap and used it to examine the plant more closely. The petals were tightly closed, the stalk peppered with small thorns.

Of course. He had been scratched by one of those thorns just before he'd handed it over to Rose. If there were some kind of drug in the flower, it would have gotten straight into his blood stream. That could explain why he had fallen asleep so rapidly and without warning.

But had Rose scratched herself too? Seemed too much like a coincidence to him. Why would someone who wanted to hypnotise and kidnap a young woman, bank on the off chance that she might catch one of the thorns? No, there had to be more to it.

Moving away from the stem, his attention turned to the petals. Nothing particularly peculiar there. He prised them open carefully, a little surprised at how tightly packed they were, then immediately dropped it to the floor, covering his nose and mouth with his jacket sleeve. A crimson dust had seeped from the flower the moment he had opened it. The view immediately struck a chord with him. He vaguely remembered seeing something similar just before Rose had kissed him. Had it come from her mouth?

Picking up the flower carefully with one hand, he left her room and headed straight to the lab. Pushing open the double doors, he placed the flower in one of the air tight, see through examination cases and slipped his hands into the gloves which would allow him access to it without falling prey to its effects once more. He needed to get a sample of the dust and get the TARDIS to analyse it, so he could find out what it did and then produce a defence.

Pulling the petals apart, the crimson dust immediately floated out again. He tipped the flower up, pouring as much as he could into a test tube. Removing that safely from containment, he crossed over to a different console, opened up a small hatch and placed it inside. Sealing the door tightly shut, he firmly palmed the button next to it. The TARDIS would do the rest; he just had to wait.

Within moments he was sighing and tapping his foot impatiently as he glanced around the room. It was great facility really, not that he used it much. He was far happier chasing around the universe, learning things through experience, than sitting in a laboratory looking through microscopes and testing soil samples. Needs must though.

Leaning back against the console, his eyes wandered the room again. He was already bored. It was a time machine for goodness sake. How long did it really need to analyse the pollen from one tiny little flower?

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, his view caught a glimpse of something unexpected. Reaching into a gap between two nearby consoles, his fingers pulled out a book. Turning it over in his hands he smiled. 'Great Expectations' by Charles Dickens. It was covered in a disgustingly thick dust and had apparently been there for some time. Opening it, he leant back against the console once more and tried to lose himself within its pages.

He only ever got as far as the fact that the character's name was Pip though. He must have read that line at least thirty times without taking in more than three words of it. Whenever he stopped thinking about the results he was waiting for, only one thing replaced them in his mind.

Rose.

And kissing Rose.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe the drug was still affecting him slightly.

The moment he'd seen Rose in the basement of the department store surrounded by Autons, he had known that there was something different about her. It was so wonderfully obvious that he hadn't stopped grinning about it for an hour afterwards. He'd been alone for some time and the prospect of having a new companion was a welcome one. She seemed to be just about ideal for the job.

He didn't believe in anything so ridiculous as love at first sight; what a half-witted human idea that was. That kind of bond, if properly done, was meant to be about respecting and getting to know someone, not instant physical attraction based on chemicals. But he had felt a connection to her; that much he was sure of. And although it seemed that there was very little a nine hundred year old Time Lord and a nineteen year old girl from a London council estate could have in common, they were just meant to be companions. He treasured the chance to show her the universe. To take her out of the shell her one little planet confined her to and let her explore things beyond her imagination. He would never forget the look of pure joy on her face as she had stepped into the snow in Victorian Cardiff. Could Mickey the Idiot have ever given her that? Could he love her like he did?

Yes, he could admit freely to himself that he loved Rose Tyler, but not in a 'settle down, have kids and get a mortgage' type of way. It was somehow better than that. They were better than that. Who had time for picking out curtains and writing joint Christmas cards when you had all ages of the universe to be explored at the throw of a few switches? Humans put such worth on love; it was hard for them to see there were some things that were even greater. Or maybe it was just a point of perspective. Everything must look very different to a person who would live less than a century, to one who had already been alive for nine.

But what if Rose changed? What if eventually she wanted all those things that humans inevitably desired? Could he possibly give them to her? Was he even capable of that? Or would he do the noble thing and let her go to find someone who could?

It disturbed him a little that he couldn't answer that. It was what made him keep his distance from her at times. It would be unfair on her to openly admit to their clearly shared affection if he was unsure whether or not it led to a dead end on his part. Besides, weren't they happy the way things were?

The console bleeped and he immediately dropped the book, forgotten once more. His sharp eyes scanned over the results and a wide grin spread slowly across his face. Now he was getting somewhere.

* * *

The tavern looked even more seedy in the harsh light of the mid morning sun. There were no forgiving shadows now to hide its dirty and slightly run down brickwork, no half-light to give it a vaguely warm and strangely inviting glow. 

Yes, in the glare of the day the place was a certifiable dump. And an abandoned looking dump at that. The Doctor's scanner, however, had confirmed that Rose was indeed still inside, along with half a dozen Gallosian women. He wondered if they had been drugged like she had or if they were doing this voluntarily.

Heading around to the rear of the building, away from the public entrance, he found himself facing a reasonably high stone wall. Hoisting himself up with his arms, he looked down into a sparse, empty courtyard with only two defining features. The first was a fairly large, shallow well that he assumed supplied the drinking water for the premises; the other was a door into the main building. Perfect.

Within moments he had cleared the wall, was inside the door and was shutting it quietly behind him. He rolled his slightly aching shoulders, stretching the muscles out. Rose would have laughed at him, calling him an old man.

The corridor he found himself in was dimly lit, the shutters on the windows tightly closed and letting in virtually no daylight. Flames from the wall-mounted torches highlighted the heavy wooden doors that lined the passage ahead. The place was silent, still and apparently empty. He checked his tracking device once more to pinpoint her position. Turn left, third door along the right. Snapping it shut again, he placed it in his pocket and headed to the room in question.

A small beep from the device cause him to pause however. He checked it again briefly and then looked towards the door he was standing next to. Glancing hurriedly around, he decided to take a small detour.

The room he found himself in was clearly some sort of storeroom, although the assortment of objects in it were rather unusual. Jewellery, trinkets, a few silk handkerchiefs, random piles of money. And the tracking device that had been stolen from him.

"Right," the Doctor said, taking his property back. The situation was starting to become much clearer.

Leaving the room, he continued on his original purpose and headed for where Rose should be. He tested the handle, turning it, and was mildly surprised to find that it was not locked. The reason for that became clear as he entered. Rose was lying there, sound asleep on the small bed in the centre of the dingy room, still dressed in the clothes he had seen her in the night before. She didn't exactly look in a hurry to be going anywhere.

He crossed quickly to her, bending down and shaking her shoulders gently. There was no sign of stirring on her slack, expressionless face.

"Rose?" he said softly into her ear, torn between the need to wake her and not wanting to alert anyone else to his presence, "Come on, get up."

He shook her a little harder but to no avail. Clearly she was still heavily drugged and he wasn't going to get her out of here in this state.

He reached out and hauled her into an upright position, manoeuvring himself so he was sitting behind her, supporting her dead weight in his arms. Careful not to let her fall again, he retrieved a test tube from his pocket. The blue liquid it contained was the antidote the TARDIS had produced for him. Taking it orally was apparently the most effective form of application. Opening her mouth and tipping her head back slightly he poured it down her throat.

Mere moments later a hoarse groan slipped from her lips and she mumbled something incomprehensible.

"That's more like it," the Doctor said, pleased.

Tucking the test tube back into his pocket he stood up, hauling Rose with him. Supporting her with an arm around the waist he headed for the door, Rose stumbling along beside him only semi-conscious. She seemed happy enough to do what he wanted without a fuss though. Made a refreshing change.

Out in the corridor he decided it was useless to go back the way he had come. He hadn't seen any gates or doors into the courtyard, and he didn't fancy trying to lift an uncooperative Rose over that wall. Instead he went the other way down the corridor, towards the actual bar. The door at this end was slightly ajar and he propped Rose up against the wall, holding her firmly there with one hand, whilst he peered inside the room. The place thankfully seemed empty and the door to the outside was secured with a simple bolt. Easy.

He had just gotten Rose moving again when he heard a door opening in the corridor behind them. Cursing under his breath he tried to hurry her up, but she was still uncoordinated and confused, her feet stumbling slowly along no matter how hard he tugged. Sighing, he scooped her up and headed quickly to the door, opening it with a combination of a partially free hand and his elbow, and leaving swiftly into the street. Fortunately the area around the tavern was still deserted, otherwise he may have had a hard time explaining to any curious passers by why he was carrying a semi clad, semi conscious girl out of a bar.

He disappeared quickly into the side alleys and kept going until he was far enough away from the tavern to say with a reasonable degree of certainty that they were safe. In a deserted plaza, he stopped, placing Rose gently on the floor and propping her against a post that held up an awning. He wiped the back of his brow quickly, splashing cool water onto his face from yet another one of the drinking troughs that littered this city. Rose wasn't exactly huge but it was hot out here. Maybe he shouldn't have worn the jacket.

Crouching down next to her, he studied at Rose for any obvious signs that she was coming round properly, before reaching out and shaking her leg. She mumbled at him, sounding slightly irritable, but showing no further signs of consciousness.

He flicked some water at her from the trough.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Wakey, wakey."

Her mutters were a little angrier this time. He thought he could make out a 'get off' in there. The antidote was clearly working, but Rose had been exposed to the drug for a good while and it was spread throughout her system. It could take a fair length of time for her to come round properly.

The Doctor sighed. He didn't like this. They were vulnerable here. Despite his earlier wish to do something vengeful to Hasani when he caught up with him, his primary concern had always been getting Rose back safely. He had no guarantee that someone hadn't spotted him leaving the tavern with her, and he knew that they should get back to the security of the TARDIS and off this planet as quickly as possible. He didn't know much about this man, but he had a feeling he'd be a little angry when he realised that someone had taken his new toy. There was no point in them getting into any further unnecessary trouble.

But it was taking some time for the drug's effects to wear off, the same way it had for him when he had come round on the streets the night before. And he hadn't been exposed to it for anywhere near as long. She could be like this for hours yet.

Then a grin split his face. Why didn't he think of that before? Such a simple solution…

"Right," he said, picking Rose up once more, "You asked for it. Don't say I didn't warn you."

And he dumped her fully into the water trough.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Within seconds her arms were flailing around wildly and she sat up with an alarmed squeal, coughing and spluttering. Her furious glare turned straight to him as she pulled strands of soaking wet blonde hair away from her face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she fumed, totally incensed.

"Oh that's nice," the Doctor replied a little huffily, although deep down he was relieved to have the real Rose back. "I rescue you and get shouted at for my troubles."

"This is your idea of rescuing me?" she asked incredulously. "Are you working from some weird alien definition of the word 'rescue' that I don't know?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows.

"Do you even know what I was rescuing you from?"

Rose stopped, confusion and a little fear, spreading across her face, "No… Did I need rescuing?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, intrigued.

She shook her head vaguely, trying to think. "We went out to visit Nefertiti's place. It was really hot and I was baking in that wig. I remember getting back to the TARDIS. I went to my room, I was gonna have a shower, but I was tired, and-"

At that moment she looked down and realised something.

"What the hell am I wearing?" she intoned slowly, looking from her unfamiliar clothes back to the Doctor. All the accusation was gone, now she was relying on him, looking for answers.

"It's not as bad as you think, honest." he reassured.

"Oh, really? You don't know what I'm thinking."

She stood up, stepping out of the trough, batting away the Doctor's attempted helping hand. He was amazed at the difference in her now from the previous night. Then she had been confident, proud and predatory. Now she was herself again: shy, self conscious and very uncomfortable. Dressing like this just wasn't her.

"Would you quit gawking at me and give me your jacket?" she asked, trying to sound lighthearted and not quite succeeding.

He immediately obliged, draping it around her shoulders. She stuck her hands in the pockets and wrapped it tightly around herself. It was much too big on her, coming halfway down her thighs.

"You might want to leave it open a bit," he suggested, slightly awkwardly. "Otherwise it doesn't look like you're wearing anything else."

"Right. Good point," she conceded, letting it loosen a bit.

She looked very small, standing there wrapped in his oversized jacket with her wet hair laying in tangled strands and her mascara running. He hadn't really considered before how frightening it could be for her to wake up not knowing what had happened. On an alien planet, wearing next to nothing and having a big blank in her memory – she could only guess at all the horrible possibilities that could have befallen her.

"It's alright," he reassured softly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "It was nothing too terrible. We need to get back to the TARDIS, yeah? Then I'll explain everything."

A soft grin alighted on his face.

"Besides, I think we should get you into something bigger than a handkerchief."

The fact that she smiled back was testament to her trust in him. If he said it was all right it was and she didn't need to worry.

"Like you weren't getting a good look," she teased lightly.

"I'll have you know that I am a gentleman," he said with mock affront.

"Well, do the gentlemanly thing and escort me back to your blue box."

He held out his hand and she grabbed it in a vice like grip.

As they began to walk he wondered how gentlemanly she would think him when she remembered what had happened in the bar.


	5. Part Five

**Author's Note: **This is the penultimate chapter, just a tag scene to go after this. I do have another fic in the works. Well, another 3 fics actually. And that's not including the 2 ficlets for The Long Game... Sigh I'll never get anything else done...

I've also written bits of part four and reuploaded that.

This part is with thanks to Lucy for doing a very good job at beta reading.

* * *

Rose stepped back into the TARDIS control room, still towel drying her hair. A long, hot shower had left her feeling much more comfortable in her own skin, and less like there was something revolting crawling all over her. She had also gratefully changed back into her own baggier, far less revealing clothes – she never thought she'd be so grateful to see jeans, a vest top and a hoodie in her life. So far she had only remembered flashes of what had happened but even they were enough to make her cringe. 

"So," she said, leaning back against the console next to where the Doctor was tinkering. "You gonna give me the full details now?"

The Doctor looked at her, frowning in a perplexed manner. How many more details did she require?

"It's just as I said," he explained in an offhand manner. "You were drugged by the pollen in that flower and ending up dancing in a pretty disreputable little bar. Well, if you call that dancing…"

"Why?" she asked, ignoring his effort to turn this all into a bit of a joke. "What was the point? To sell more drinks? They weren't paying to watch me, were they?"

She grimaced at that thought. It was so humiliating, so degrading.

"No. It was robbery," the Doctor said simply. "There was such an excess of the drug in your system that you were breathing large quantities of it out. Randy men get too close to you, inhale it and pass out, their stuff is nicked and they're dumped in the street. Hours later they wake up, remembering little of what happened and wondering what the hell they were drinking."

Rose shook her head absently, thinking the whole thing sounded ridiculous. "Seems a bit complex to me. Why doesn't he just mug people in the streets like any other robber?"

"I s'pose it's cleaner this way," the Doctor suggested with a shrug. "And he probably makes a healthy packet from the bar too."

"Guess so," Rose agreed, sighing, seeing his point but still not exactly happy with the situation. He seemed to think that what had happened was a bit of a blip in their adventures, that they could be just brushed aside. Nothing to worry about really – a bit embarrassing, certainly, but not serious.

But he wasn't the one who had spent twenty minutes in the shower, scrubbing his skin until it was raw, because he kept having creepy flashbacks of drooling, lecherous men.

"So," the Doctor said brightly, either not picking up on her dour mood or choosing to ignore it. "Where to now? There's a meteor shower due in the atmosphere of Ngliun 3 any day now. Absolutely spectacular views from this restaurant right on top of the mountains. I could get us great seats. I don't actually have a reservation, but since when has that stopped us, hmm?"

Rose frowned at him, wondering how he could be so forgetful. "What about the other girls?"

"What about them?" he asked with an indifferent shrug.

"Well, we can't just leave them there," she reasoned, mildly outraged at his lack of consideration. How would he like it if he were abandoned to be a drug controlled slave?

"Of course we can," he replied in a far too flippant manner, "Press a couple of switches, pull a couple of levers and we can go anywhere, remember? Although I really would recommend this meteor shower. Goes right through the atmosphere at such an angle that-"

"What if they were drugged like me?" she interrupted, incredulous at his total apathy. Although she should have half expected it really. Sometimes he could be so understanding and caring. Others he could be a totally arrogant prick who seemed content to leave any species he considered lower than himself to just get on with it. This was definitely one of the latter.

"Well, maybe if they're lucky they'll have a devilishly handsome alien come to their rescue too," he joked with a manic grin.

He was trying to be charming, but it certainly wasn't working.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until we do something about those girls," she stated firmly, dropping the towel to the floor and crossing her arms for effect.

"Hey! Don't do that!" He immediately exclaimed in annoyance, picking the towel up. "You'll leave a funny mark. Honestly, if I'd known you were the sort of person who left wet towels laying around I would have brought Mickey instead."

She was starring at him steadily, not in the least bit intending to get side tracked.

"Rose," he reasoned, sounding a little irritated but trying hard to smooth things out, "I did not come here to start a women's liberation movement."

"It's not right," she insisted resolutely.

"No," he said, jumping straight on her response, drawn into an argument he didn't really want to have, "In your human idea of morality it's not right. Unfortunately the entire universe does not subscribe to one tiny planet's version of what is right and wrong. Different people live in different ways, and if you're going to travel out here Rose, you are going to have to get used to it, alright? You can't go changing the universe because you don't like it."

"He is using them," she said firmly, her voice tight with anger. "He's treating them like objects. You can't do that people."

"Why not?" the Doctor challenged. "Earth isn't exactly a staggering role model where individual rights are concerned."

"That's not the point!" she countered, her voice rising rapidly towards a shout.

She hadn't wanted this to be an argument but he was being such a pig. She knew she was right and wasn't prepared to back down just for the sake of keeping the peace. Not in a matter like this.

"No," he said firmly. "The point is that it's not our place to interfere."

"Oh, come off it!" she snorted with derision. "You interfere all the time."

"Yes," he agreed, suddenly becoming a little introspective. "And I shouldn't. Not really."

"Well, if that's the case then why'd you bother coming to get me?" she asked sarcastically, too annoyed with him to notice his change of mood. "Surely you should've just let things take their course."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," he snapped with disdain, not willing to get caught into that trap. "Of course that's different. You're only here because of me."

"So you're saying I deserve my freedom and free will more than they do?"

"Yes," he said automatically.

She starred at him for a long moment.

"Rose," he said, softening his voice, wanting to resolve things. "You can't save everyone. It's nice that you want to try, but the universe isn't that kind of a place."

"So what?" she asked, no longer angry but an unnatural bitterness tainting her voice. "The best solution is to stop trying?"

"No. Of course not," he replied with exasperation. "But time is complicated. Despite what you might believe I do try and mess with it as little as possible. Besides, don't you think we've been in enough trouble for one planet? Going back would be pushing our luck. Hasani isn't going to be pleased when he finds out that you're gone."

"I'm willing to risk it," she said with admirable determination.

The Doctor sighed, surrendering. Yes, he could argue it with her. He could simply refuse to do it and take them off elsewhere before she had a chance to leave. But she would be little fun to travel with if she was angry with him. Besides, she did have a point.

And when she pouted at him like that he found it strangely difficult to deny her anything.

"Fine," he conceded, making it clear he was doing this under duress. "I did have an plan to get them out actually, I just don't think you'll be too keen on it."

"Why?" she asked, calmer but suddenly suspicious.

He smiled, raising a mischievous eyebrow.

"You didn't throw away that fetching little red number you were wearing, did you?"

* * *

"I can't believe that the only plan you could come up with involves this," Rose said despairingly through the locked bathroom door. "Some genius you are. You're just trying to embarrass me, aren't you?" 

"Look," he stated plainly, "If you're spotted wandering around there in jeans some bright spark is going to figure out that all is not hunky dory. Think of it as a disguise."

"Yeah, well it doesn't exactly disguise much."

"Oh, stop complaining," he scolded, infuriated by her moaning over what he considered to be nothing. "You look great."

There was a short pause.

"Really? You think?"

"Yeah…For a human."

She laughed slightly at that. "Oh, you're so charming."

"Thanks."

"That was sarcasm, right?"

"I know."

Tentatively, Rose opened the door and stepped out, wrapped in a big, fluffy, white bathrobe and looking hugely uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"You do realise you can't wear that," he pointed out in a matter of fact manner. She wasn't going to like it but it was the truth.

"Why not?" she pouted.

It wasn't going to work this time.

"I've already told you. Besides, you're the one who wants to go and help those women, yes?"

"I know," she said desperately, "And I do."

"Then you're going to have to make a few sacrifices to do that," he said in an annoyingly reasonable manner, "If helping people was easy then everybody would be doing it."

"This isn't a sacrifice," Rose muttered, bitterly, "It's total humiliation."

He starred at her pointedly, arms folded across his chest.

"I know, alright?" she said defensively in response to his look, "It's just…. I can't go out in the streets dressed like this. Seriously. I can't. I mean, look at me…"

She opened the bathrobe to give him a flash of the skimpy costume underneath. Not that the Doctor needed a reminder. The vision of her wearing it was permanently imprinted on a part of his brain he was trying to keep quiet.

Look at her? Actually he was desperately trying not to, thanks.

"Alright Whingey," he said with a dramatic glance to the sky, "Come with me then."

He took her hand and pulled her swiftly out of the room, following the familiar route to the dressing room and its 'magic' wardrobe. The Doctor paused for a moment when he saw it. He smiled, turning to Rose.

"You've got a good imagination," he said, sounding pleased. "That's an impressive piece of furniture. Never usually looks that interesting. Last person who was in here, it was barely more than a metal box."

He didn't give her a chance to question that as he crossed over to the wardrobe and flung it open.

It was empty and he seemed a little surprised by the fact. He stuck his head right inside, further than the dimensions of the thing should really allow, and looked round as if making doubly sure there was nothing there.

"Oh, come on," he complained, shutting it and giving it a good, swift kick. He grimaced slightly, turning to Rose.

"Did you have to imagine something quite so solid though?" he complained.

"Sorry," she said with an uncertain shrug, not really sure what she was apologising for.

"Let's try again."

The Doctor turned his attention back to the wardrobe. This time when he opened it there was just one item inside.

"That's better," he praised, patting the piece of furniture on one of its solid wooden sides. He took out the solitary item and handed it to Rose.

She unfolded it, to find it was a large but airy, cream coloured cloak. Suitable for the time period with the added bonus of covering up everything she didn't want on show as she walked through the streets.

"Thanks," she said to the Doctor, smiling, swapping the cloak with the bathrobe.

"Better?"

"Much better."

"Good. Now," he said, gesturing towards the door, "Shall we go to the rescue?"

"Lead the way," she said, following him towards the front door. "And then I think that meteor shower sounds like a good idea. I need something to take my mind of these horrible flashbacks I keep having about fawning over dirty old men."

She shuddered, not noticing that the Doctor suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

* * *

Finding himself back at the tavern for the third time in twenty-four hours, the Doctor decided that it actually looked worse every time he saw it. More dilapidated, more sinister and sleazier. He definitely had to make sure the next place they visited had no seedy bars. He was getting sick of the sight. 

Heading round the back of the building, taking the same route he had taken when he had rescued her earlier, he checked that the area was clear before turning back to Rose.

"There you go," he said, handing her a large test tube of the blue antidote. "I would say keep it out of sight, but I don't think that bikini has much pocket space."

"Oh, ha ha," she said drolly, snatching it from him and slipping it into the top of the tiny sarong.

"And keep your phone on you," he said, handing the object over. "Just in case."

She nodded, taking it and slipping it next to the test tube.

"Go on then," he said, nodding towards the wall.

Rose looked around, confused, "What?"

"Over you hop," he encouraged, brightly.

Rose snorted a laugh, "You are joking right?"

The expression on his face convinced her that he was in fact entirely serious.

"I can't climb over that!" she exclaimed.

He rolled his eyes, "It's just one thing after another with you isn't it."

Bending forward, he clasped his hands together, making a small foothold for her to stand on.

"Come on, then," he encouraged. "We haven't got all day."

For the second time since she'd met him, Rose was glad she'd done gymnastics instead of ballet as a kid. Reluctantly leaving the cloak in a bundle on the floor, she stepped onto his hand with one foot and was just about able to keep her balance as he boosted her up so she could grab the top of the wall. Pausing there, the Doctor gave her another shove to help her pull herself up.

"You only wanted to do this so you could look up my skirt," she joked, having problems getting a good grip with her small hands.

"What skirt?"

Pausing at the top of the wall, trying to get her balance so she could safely get down the other side, Rose was unexpectedly struck by another flashback of her previous night's adventures.

_His chest was warm and solid under her fingertips. So much better than the others here. As she got closer, close enough to breathe him in, she caught the scent of leather and skin. His unmistakeable cologne. Stirring something inside. Her blood flaming in her veins. Her fingers trailed the back of his neck, making the little hairs there stand on end. His lips were surprisingly soft for someone who had been alive so long. His hands held her hips so firmly she should be bruised from the contact._

Rose gasped in alarm and fell off the wall into the courtyard.

"Rose?" the Doctor's frantic voice came as he hauled himself up to look for her, "Are you alright?"

She looked up at him, shocked.

"You kissed me."

He immediately dropped from sight again, retreating behind the safety of the wall.

"I was drugged," he explained, a little too quickly. "And you started it."

"You didn't have to join in," she pointed out.

"Did I not just say I was drugged?" he said defensively. "And you were the one who drugged me by the way."

"I thought Time Lords were better built than us humans," Rose said, her voice worryingly calm.

"We're still physical beings, okay?" the Doctor said. "Actually, I think that's why you had to kiss me but not the others. I was more immune to the drug so you had to get it into my system more forcefully."

"S'pose I should be grateful it was just a kiss then."

"Rose-"

"Don't worry," she cut in, interrupting his inevitable apology.

"You're not angry with me?" he asked, his voice sounding small and unconvinced.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I would understand if you were."

"I will be if you don't shut up about it," she snapped, a little sharply. "Look, if it makes you happy, when we get back to the TARDIS I'll throw plates at you, but I think we're a little busy right now. I need to get going. It'll be dark soon."

"Alright. Be careful."

Rose left him waiting impatiently behind the wall as she headed to the door. She was trying desperately to keep her mind focussed on the matter at hand and not getting caught, but unsurprisingly she found it difficult. She should be angry with him really, or at least a little miffed. He'd kissed her whilst she was drugged up to the gills and not in her right mind. Okay, so he had been affected too, but shouldn't he have tried a little harder to stop her?

There was no anger in her however. In fact, it felt more like disappointment. The only thing he had done was deny responsibility and blame it all on her. Had kissing her really been that bad?

The little tingle she got in her stomach when she thought about it was quite nice. It made her feel a little sad that he might have seen the experience differently.

She firmly pushed all those thoughts aside. She had to learn to prioritise better. Concentrating on getting out of here without getting caught was more important than thinking that her travelling companion was actually quite handsome if she thought about it. At least, it should be.

She didn't want another boyfriend, and right now she was happy with the Doctor as her best friend and companion. But it was a little hurtful to think that he totally dismissed her as anything else. That it could never be more than that.

"Stop being stupid," she resolutely commanded herself as she slowly turned the handle of the door. She wasn't some stupid kid anymore.

She pushed the door gently and opened without a sound. Some helpful soul clearly kept the hinges well oiled. Inside the place was quite dark and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

The corridor looked vaguely familiar, but it was like trying to pinpoint something in a half remembered dream. The more she reached for it, the more solid she tried to make it, the more formless her memories became. Fortunately the Doctor had already told her where she needed to go. Down the corridor, turn right, fourth and fifth doors along on the left. There were two women in each of the rooms.

As she hurried quietly along, barefoot, Rose wondered for a moment what would happen if she were wrong. What if the women were quite happily working for Hasani and she was the only one who had been drugged?

She hoped they were friendly either way. And the Doctor was only a loud scream away if they weren't.

Sneaking into a first, mildly familiar room she saw two women, both laid out on small beds, both apparently unconscious. Shaking the nearest one slightly and getting no response confirmed that suspicion. Picking up a nearby cup, she carefully took the test tube from her waistband and poured a few of drops of the blue liquid in. She then topped it up with water, swirling it around a little to mix it up. Whilst he had been waiting for her to shower and change, the Doctor had been playing with the composition of the antidote drug. Apparently he had increased its effectiveness by at least a thousand.

That had confused Rose a little. He had tried to dissuade her from coming back and helping these other women. He had argued against her doing it. And yet before she had even asked him about it he had already made a better version of the antidote. It was those kind of contradictions in his actions that she found hardest to get used to, especially since he wasn't the most forthcoming person about explaining himself.

Sitting the first woman up slightly, propping her there with pillows, Rose carefully made her drink the mixture. The effect was almost instantaneous. The woman's eyes fluttered open and she looked around, confused but to her credit not overly panicked or afraid. Her gaze rested on Rose. There was a hint of recognition in her eyes and she was looking to the younger woman for answers.

"I don't understand," she said, her voicing managing to hold some authority despite her bewilderment. "Where am I?"

"Look," Rose said, helping her stand up. "I'll explain everything, okay? But there's others, and we've got to get them out too."

She gestured over to the second, still unconscious woman, pushing another cup of the hastily created mixture into her new accomplice's hand.

"Make her drink this then get out. Down the corridor to the right and through the bar. I'll meet you outside, yeah?"

She waited for the other woman to nod in response before heading off to the second room, and the final two captives. The mixture worked on them as quickly as it had the others.

She was just helping the last woman to her feet when her phone went off. Rose visibly jumped, startled by the loud noise in the virtually silent room and fumbled to answer it.

"What?" she hissed irritably.

"You alright?" the Doctor's voice asked.

"Well, I was until some idiot gave me a heart attack by phoning me while I was sneaking around trying to be quiet!"

The Doctor chose to ignore her. "Did you use the antidote?"

"Yeah, they're gonna be fine."

"Good. Look, I had an idea. That antidote should be effective diluted down to ten parts per million. If you pour the rest in the water supply out back then it should prevent Hasani doing this again. And even better, he won't be able to figure out why."

Rose grinned, she liked the sound of that, "Alright, I'll do that and meet you out front, yeah? I'm sending the women that way so you get round there and meet them."

She hung up.

"Get out the front," Rose ordered the two women who were starring at her in confusion, "Someone'll be there to meet you, okay?"

With that she left them behind, heading hurriedly back to the courtyard. The longer she was here, the more likely it would be that she'd be caught. Entering the courtyard again she looked around, spotting the shallow well to her left. Hurrying over there she knelt on the floor, taking the stopper off of the test tube and poured the contents in, right to the last drop. She put her hand in the water, swirling it around to get rid of the tell tale trace of blue.

Now she just had to meet up with the Doctor. He'd promised her a meteor shower. And ice cream.

Yes, ice cream would be nice right now.

Suddenly, there was a sharp tug at the back of Rose's head and she squealed in pain as she was yanked by her hair. Her neck was snapped back by the force and she found herself looking up into the angry face of a man she realised she knew.

It was the one who had sold the Doctor the flower in the marketplace.

It was the one who had dragged her though the streets, even though a small part of her brain was arguing that that wasn't something she wanted to do.

It was the one who had made her change into this ridiculous excuse for clothes.

Hasani.

"What are you doing?" he said, clearly confused. "You should be in your room. Why are you awake?"

He spotted the discarded test tube on the floor and his eyes widened.

"What is that?" he asked, a mixture of shock and fury in his voice

Rose felt it was to her benefit not to answer.

He unceremoniously dragged her to her feet by her hair, and she gasped in pain, having no choice but to do what he wanted. Her hands flew up to where he was holding her and she grabbed at him, digging her nails in, trying to make him let go.

"What is it!" he asked again, ignoring the pain she was inflicting on his hand.

"Get off me!" she shouted, trying to kick him, but she found it difficult to get a co-ordinated strike in.

"Tell me what it is you wench," he hollered in her ear. "Or so help me I will allow you to live just long enough to regret ever crossing me!"

"Oi!"

Rose didn't know if she'd ever been so glad to hear anyone's voice in her life. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor swing a punch straight at Hasani's face. The man immediately dropped her hair, clutching at his nose and falling to the floor. The Doctor's arms grabbed her round the waist to help her steady herself.

"You've got to admire my timing," he said as he looked at her with a grin.

"Yeah," Rose nodded, one hand rubbing her sore head, her gaze fixed on Hasani, who was struggling to his feet. She escaped from the Doctor's supportive grip just enough to step forward and kick the prone man in the stomach as hard as she could. The Doctor quickly scrambled to grab hold her, pulling her away to a safe distance. Safer for Hasani at least.

"Down girl," he muttered. "I think it's time Mr Hasani here learned to pick on someone his own size."

He turned to gesture to the four woman standing just feet away.

"Rose, I'd like to introduce you to Mayati, Masika, Nailah and Akila." He turned to address Hasani, who had seemingly decided that he was safer staying down on the floor. "Did you know that? Did you know the names of the women you kidnapped? Or did you know nothing beyond the fact that they had pretty faces?"

Hasani seemed to be frozen to the spot, genuine fear on his face at the Doctor's dangerously cheerful demeanour.

"I'll take your silence as a 'no', shall I?" the Doctor continued, his voice making him sound strangely pleased with himself. "Another thing that you probably didn't know about them then is that they were all trainees in the Royal Palace Guard. All hand to hand combat specialists."

The four women had very angry looks on their faces.

"And, just so you know, I explained to them all about what's been going on and I think they might want a word with you."

Hasani's face fell.

"Bye then! Come on, Rose," the Doctor said cheerfully, linking arms with his companion and leading her away.

As they reached the door, Rose glanced back to see Hasani's pleading form being obscured by the towering presence of four outraged women. For a moment, one of the women turned back and smiled at Rose with a grateful nod.

"Thank you."

Rose returned the smile.

"You're welcome."

"Now that is poetic justice," the Doctor said with a curt nod as the woman turned back to her kidnapper.

Rose grinned in return. "There is something strangely satisfying about it, yeah."


	6. Part Six

**Author's Note: **This is the last chapter folks. Many, many thanks to those who have read and reviewed.

* * *

"Now you've got to admit that this is probably the most impressive thing you've ever seen. Tastes fantastic too." 

Rose glanced up from swirling her straw lazily around her Coke to see the Doctor setting down the most ridiculously elaborate ice cream she could possibly imagine.

They were sitting in a booth in an ice cream parlour in San Francisco, 1957. It was like they'd stepped onto the set of 'Grease', right down to the colour of the tablecloths. The Doctor had insisted that fifties America was the place to go for great ice cream and she hadn't argued with that. Quite frankly she was glad to go anywhere that wasn't forty degrees in the shade and covered in sand.

She hadn't even complained about being made to wear a dress. After her recent experiences with clothes, as long as it appeared to be more than underwear she was happy to wear just about anything.

He sat down, grinning even more manically than usual. It was amazing really. He travelled around the universe in a time machine, he could visit any day or place he wished, but the thing he saved his extra huge, face breaking smile for was ice cream.

Aliens were so weird.

Now chocolate, that she could have understood.

She took the spoon he handed to her and scooped off part of the raspberry ripple layer and some pink sprinkles. He was right. It tasted excellent.

"Do you mind if I…?" he asked, indicating the cherry on the top.

"Go for it," she gestured, giving him free range to eat whatever he wanted.

Heading for the mint side this time (with chocolate sprinkles) she caught him starring at her expectantly, and she suddenly realised what this actually was.

It was a giant ice cream apology. With sprinkles, wafers, flakes and a cherry on top. She smiled fondly. Men were so obvious, whatever species they were.

"You don't need to keep apologising, alright?" she reassured, causing him to pause with a large spoonful halfway in his mouth.

He swallowed the ice cream too quickly, wincing at the cold.

"So you're not angry with me then?" he said, as warily as he might handle some kind of dangerous animal.

She shook her head. "Nah. A little shocked, that's all. I didn't even remember you being there until then."

But she remembered it now, and at the most inopportune moments the memory of kissing him would pop into her head, along with that deliciously warm feeling the thought invoked, and she would feel the need to rapidly suppress it. She wouldn't have him knowing it affected her like that.

"Neither of us were ourselves," he pointed out, sounding a little awkward still.

She picked up another spoonful of ice cream and let it melt in her mouth before continuing, a cheeky smile on her face.

"I wasn't all doom and gloom, you know? You weren't a bad kisser, after all."

She laughed as the Doctor clonked his teeth with the spoon and starred at her, wide eyed.

"For an alien," she added, grinning cheekily, realising how nice it was to leave him gawping like a goldfish every now and again.

He seemed to pick up on this because a grin spread across his face too.

"Well," he admitted, looking at her with a mischievous glint in his eye, "It wasn't the worst thing I've ever been forced to do."

"Oh thanks!" she scolded, in mock admonishment.

She was secretly very satisfied with that response though, because he had unwittingly given her the answer to the thing she'd been wondering about. There was more between them. He felt it too. The look in his eye had told her that. They were doing nothing but waiting for one or other of them to take that first step.

But that knowledge was filed away for the future. Someone would have to take that step eventually, and maybe she'd have to be the one to do it. But not today. Or tomorrow. Later. For now she had her hands full exploring the universe, saving people and staying alive. She was perfectly content to know that some day it could happen. That it probably would. Besides, getting there could be half the fun.

"And I think we've both learnt a valuable lesson from this," he added, pouncing on another spoonful of ice cream.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You've learnt not to take flowers from strange men."

She giggled slightly at that.

"And what have you learnt? Not to buy me dangerous presents?"

"No," he said, with a teasing smile. "That your dancing is a powerful weapon. Next time we're in trouble and need a distraction, I know what to do. The aliens' eyeballs will fall right out. Although in some species that's a sign of great honour and acceptance."

Rose took his teasing with good grace. It was a bit funny when you thought about it.

"Sounds gross," she said enthusiastically. "When can I meet them?"

"Maybe later. We've got a meteor shower to watch, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember something about a restaurant too," she recalled. "You buying me dinner Doctor?"

"I just brought you ice cream," he said incredulously. "You're so demanding."

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly. "And you kissed me whilst I was drugged."

He looked at her with a wry smile. "You can't use that forever, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she agreed. "So I'm getting the most out of it whilst I can."

"What about your ice cream?" he said, taking another spoonful for himself.

She played with it unenthusiastically, picking it up and letting it plop back into the bowl. "It's melting. I don't like it when it melts."

He rolled his eyes.

"Come on then."

He stood up, holding his hand out. She immediately grabbed it, like a natural instinct, and he pulled her to her feet.

"Don't s'pose you're gonna change for dinner," she said hopefully as they walked towards the door.

He shook his head. "No chance."

A determined look set itself on her face. "One day, Doctor, I swear I am going to get you into a suit."

"You do that, I'll strand you on the planet of six foot slugs," he warned.

She stepped in front of him, hands on hips, looking up at his face with a mildly smug expression. "Nah, you wouldn't."

He looked straight back down at her, enjoying the glint of humour in her eye. Loving her enthusiasm. Glowing in her company.

"No," he said shaking his head. "I wouldn't."


End file.
